


We Graceless Few

by SaltybutSweet



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Jesse has problems, M/M, Mental Health Issues, More tags will be added later, Rating May Change, Violence, past mentions of R76, so does gabe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-16 01:08:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16075202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaltybutSweet/pseuds/SaltybutSweet
Summary: Drafted into Blackwatch, McCree realises his quickly deteriorating mental health and growing dependence on Commander Reyes’ affection is not a good mix.





	We Graceless Few

**Author's Note:**

> THIS STORY CONTAINS SENSITIVE MATERIAL REGARDING MENTAL HEALTH AND UNHEALTHY RELATIONSHIPS. IF YOU WISH TO AVOID THIS SORT OF CONTENT, PLEASE LEAVE NOW.  
> This will be your only warning. If you believe the content will upset you, then I suggest you leave now - Respectfully, the author.

Jesse’s always had a little bite to him. He grew up on the wrong side of nowhere, with nothing but a gun in his hand and a burning will to survive. Jesse had to admit that he didn’t much like the way things were turning out. Overwatch had been sticking their nose where they hadn’t got no right to be sticking it, and he knew that sooner or later they’d show up at Route 66. The Deadlock Gang had been causing too many problems as of late, and it was only a matter of time before the UN sent their little band of picture-perfect heroes to take them out. He was fresh into his adulthood, barely pushing twenty, but already, he carried a heavy bounty on his head. Being a wanted man gave him a bit of a kick, but Jesse had to admit that it was tiring; he never had a moment’s rest in his near-constant state of awareness that at any time, someone could fire a bullet into the side of his skull. Life in the gang, overall, was simple. You did what you were told when you were told to do it, and as long as he kept his wits about him, Jesse knew he'd be okay.

…

It was just another day on base. Jesse kicked his feet up on the empty wooden crate in front of him and lit a hand-rolled cigarette. He looked down over the edge of the red-rock cliff that jutted out from the side of the base and lifted the cigarette to his lips. The town was empty those days. After people caught wind of the illegal sort of business the local gang was doing, they cleared out soon enough. Jesse didn’t blame them, but he had to admit that it was kinda lonely without the townsfolk milling around like they used to do. He took a drag on the cigarette, the smoke rolled over his tongue for a moment before he parted his lips and blew it slowly back out. Things had been almost peaceful lately, and in-fighting was at a low. Jesse _almost_ felt relaxed. He dropped his cigarette onto the ground and crushed it under the heel of his boot, knowing he'd have to move soon to look over the latest shipment of weapons and make sure it was ready to head out.  
\- Jesse heard the screams before the explosion. When it eventually reached him, the noise was so loud that it stunned him and left his ears ringing. He fell to the ground with his hands clamped over his head, and looked around with wild eyes, desperately trying to pinpoint where it was all coming from. Men ran around him in a rush of activity, and it was only a few seconds more before bullets started firing from both sides. Bodies fell to the ground, and Jesse scurried back to save himself, his boots kicked at the dirt in a desperate effort to get out of the way- to any sort of safety. He nearly cried out for help, but who in hell’s name would help him in the middle of a gunfight? Jesse reached for his pistol and raised it, looking for a target. The only way he’d get out alive was if he shot anything that even _attempted_ to come near him.  
Jesse realised a few seconds too late that someone was advancing towards him. He yelled, the sound involuntary, as he swung the barrel to point at them. What he failed to notice, however, was the other person coming up behind him. Jesse thrashed out in a blind panic as a strong arm wrapped around his neck, restricting him in a vicious choke hold. The man in front wrestled the gun from his grip and Jesse closed his eyes, waiting for the bullet. He almost fainted at the feeling of cool metal being placed between his eyes and was only distantly aware that he’d wet himself in fear. Everything after that was a dull blur as a bag was pulled down roughly over his head and wrapped tightly with cord. Jesse was hauled to his feet and shoved forward. He didn’t know where he was being taken, but he prayed that he could kill himself before they got the chance to do it for him.

…

When he woke, the first thing Jesse noticed was that he was in a lot of pain. _Too much pain_. He looked down and saw he’d been shot in his left arm above his tattoo. The bullet was still embedded deep in his bone and muscle tissue, and Jesse wondered with morbid casualness if he’d die first from blood poisoning or an infection. Whoever had taken him clearly didn’t want him dead _just yet_ , Jesse thought as he inspected the tiny pinpricks above the bullet hole, an obvious sign that he’d been injected with some kind of drug, most likely a sedative. A tourniquet was fastened tight above the wound, stopping him from bleeding out, but whatever they must have given him for the pain was starting to wear off.  
-  
It felt like he’d been kept in the same room for days, but Jesse couldn’t be sure. His world had been narrowed down to a single agent that kept coming in to _‘talk’_ to him, trying to pry out answers that Jesse didn’t have. He tried to explain that he had only ever been a dog at the bottom of the pack, and that he didn’t know anything about what the higher ups in the gang were doing. It was the honest truth, but the agent didn’t seem to like it all that much.  
‘Where am I?’ he’d asked one time, ‘you ain’t said much to me, other than askin’ all these questions.’  
The man grunted and glared down at him with thinly-veiled disgust.  
‘You don’t need to know that intel. Just think yourself lucky that the commander decided we’d keep you alive.’  
It wasn’t many days later when Jesse fell sick. His arm ached so badly that he could barely keep himself awake, the ever-growing pain and fever wreaking havoc in his system. The bullet had caused an infection, bone-deep, like he’d feared it would. Jesse couldn’t stop the pained moans that fell from his cracked lips when the swollen and badly damaged skin of his wound brushed against his dirty clothes. He was scared for the first time that he might really die locked up in that room.  
‘Please, get me a doctor,’ he begged the next time the man came into the room, ‘ _please_ , it hurts so bad.’ Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as he struggled to hold himself together. The agent gave him a blank stare and reached out for his arm. For a fleeting moment, Jesse thought the man was going to take sympathy on him and get him some help, but betrayal was instant as a thumb was dug punishingly hard into his inflamed skin.  
‘ _Bastard-!_ ’ Jesse gasped out, tears falling freely, ‘you ain’t gunna be able to question me if ‘am dead.’  
The agent only laughed as he let Jesse’s arm fall from his grip.  
Later that day, Jesse passed out. 

…

‘Don’t move too much,’ a soft voice spoke out, ‘you must be in pain. I don’t agree with Blackwatch practices, but it wasn’t my place to step in.’  
Jesse turned his head; his eyes fell on a blonde woman sitting in a chair behind a cluttered desk on the other side of an unfamiliar room.  
‘Can you feel anything?’ she looked pointedly at his arm. Jesse followed her gaze, a feeling seized him like he’d been thrown into ice-cold water when he saw a bandaged stump where his arm should have been.  
‘I had to amputate it.’ She said it so calmly that Jesse wondered how many horrific injuries she had seen over her career. ‘The morphine will wear off soon, I suggest you lie back and try and sleep some more. You will be moved out of here when I declare you fit enough to leave the ward.’  
Jesse nodded grimly and let his head rest against the thin pillow that was wedged under his neck. He was so drained that sleep took him in a matter of minutes.

…

Jesse spent the next few weeks being moved from room to room, blindfolded and restrained. He felt so helpless, and resigned himself to being hauled once more to his feet once more and led back into the interrogation room he’d become all-too-familiar with. Jesse was finally offered some sort of release. It came in the form of Gabriel Reyes.  
‘So, kid.’  
Jesse bristled at the face of a man he’d never seen before.  
‘The fuck do you want?’ he spat, not hiding his distaste.  
‘Listen, brat.’ The man kicked his boot against the concrete wall behind Jesse’s head, ‘you’re gonna listen to me, and you’re not gonna say a word until I’m finished talking, alright?’  
Jesse stayed silent, an expression of defiance on his face.  
‘Good.’ Gabriel moved his foot back down, ‘now, as you’ve probably guessed, once we’re done with you, one of two things are gonna happen. The first is that you’ll have your ass carted off to the local supermax and you’ll never see the outside world again. The other being that you can join us here in Blackwatch.’  
Jesse’s eyes widened. What was Blackwatch?  
‘Truth is, your aim is remarkable. Before we took you down I personally saw what you did to my men.’  
Jesse cursed inwardly, this man wasn’t just another interrogator- he was a leader of some sort, someone he really shouldn’t mess with.  
‘You don’t miss, kid. We want that. _I_ want that. So what do you say?’ Gabriel looked at Jesse pointedly, waiting for an answer.  
‘What fucking choice do I have?’ Jesse pushed himself up, ‘guess I’m gonna stay a little while longer.. sir’  
'I'll be your commander from here on out. Welcome to Blackwatch, kid.'


End file.
